


Agapi

by starwalker42



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Episode: s06e04 Dreamland, Episode: s07e11 Closure, Episode: s08e021 Existence, Episode: s09e20 The Truth (Part 2), F/M, also i love greek, file under: diana fowley is a bitch, so have a nerdy story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-10-21 08:56:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10681992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starwalker42/pseuds/starwalker42
Summary: or Five Times Fox Mulder Fell In Love. A one shot in five parts, with spoilers mainly for season 7 onwards.





	1. I: Eros

 

** Agapi **

****

** I: Eros  **

**_eros (έρως)_ : **A love founded on physical longing, tremendous passion and sexual desire. The Intensity of this love can be dangerous as it impairs judgements and leads to dependency on the other.

 

The first time, he will come to realise, wasn’t love.

But at the time he had never fallen in love before, and he didn’t know what it entailed. He didn’t know that love is not a desperate need for someone, anyone, to fill the hole left by your absent family, not a lie you tell yourself so that you can pretend that nothing’s wrong. Love is deeper than an instinctive, primal need for passion and lust and fulfilment, and love should probably be reciprocal.

(But he doesn’t come to realise that until later.)

(And that’s another story for another time.)

So, for all intents and purposes, the first time Fox Mulder falls in love it is with an intelligent, attractive and perceptive fellow FBI agent called Diana Fowley, who, in a way, will be the starting point for the whole journey yet to come.

Finding the X-Files with her in the basement was like a gift, a blessing in more ways than one. There in the basement, Mulder (but no, he’s not Mulder yet, he’s still Fox) spends countless hours reading a re-reading the hundreds of identical brown folders, searching for any clue as to what happened to Samantha that night, and finding things that only prompt more questions.

And he’s not alone- Diana is there with him, asking more, searching deeper, finishing his own ideas before he’s even finished thinking them. In many ways, Diana becomes a counterpart, the only person who truly believes him, as much of his new life as the X-Files themselves. He cannot separate her from them, and as such he falls in love with her as he falls in love with the basement, or what it represents.

Safety, acceptance, knowledge… and the truth.

So yes, he falls in love with her, and she pretends to fall in love with him.

There are days spent flirting in the basement, evenings spent drinking some expensive brand of wine at her apartment, nights spent in a heated fever where he is driven half-mad and giddy with desire. While it lasts, Fox never pauses to consider the future, or how long this can continue. He doesn’t do that until it’s too late, when she comes into their office and tells him she’s leaving. Permanently. Going to Africa to investigate terrorists, or something along those lines. Fox honestly can’t remember hearing the rest of her explanation.

His first thought is that some external force are taking her away from him- the FBI know what’s down here, and are stopping them from continuing their work together. But she tells him it’s not like that, this is her decision. It’s nothing personal.

( _I’m sorry, Fox._ )

He didn’t believe her to begin with, but she left almost before he was aware it would happen. He can’t remember saying a proper goodbye. He didn’t even see her off at the airport. He was surprised by how quickly he could adjust to life without her by his side. It was as if that betrayal had always been inevitable, and his heart was already prepared to cope with it.

In time, he will come to forget how much it hurt, and how much he blames her. But even when she reappears so suddenly into his life, he does not give her what she wants. An admission that he’s missed her. A teasing half grin or wink. He does not give her his blind adoration, but fights against it with all he can.

(The second stab of betrayal, when she takes partial ownership of the cases that have dominated his life so entirely, is the pain of losing both her and the truth. Again.)

He learns, after the screaming voices in his brain and the journey through an alternate life are just half-forgotten dreams to his damaged mind, that Diana may have saved him. Not only saved his life, but given hers in exchange. He expects the knowledge to burn like acid through his heart, the way he remembers it happening in that other reality, but there is nothing.

Sadness, regret, maybe a little guilt, but no soul-crushing grief.

(He knows who his real saviour is.)

 

 


	2. II: Philia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of 5. I should be on track to post a chapter each day, as long as everything stays as it is. You can find it complete on fanfiction.net but I'm posting it in chapters here anyway. Thank you to everyone who's read so far, I hope you'll enjoy this next chapter a bit more (I certainly preferred writing it!)

**II: Philia**

_**philia**_ **(** _ **φιλίφ**_ **):** A love or friendship between equals that embraces loyalty, familiarity, virtue and trust.

  


The second time, he is stood showered in moonlight, in a body that is not his, a body he will be trapped in for the rest of his life, alone with her save for his own body encasing another man's consciousness, too close for any real privacy.

He will never understand why it is now, after six years, that he falls in love.

Or, maybe, realises he's in love. Allows himself to accept it. He can't really remember the exact moment when their friendship, their partnership, transitioned to something deeper. He can't remember when exactly he never wanted to live without her, or when they could have conversations in nothing but glances and touches, or when seeing her in pain made his own heart twist along with hers…

Regardless, it's now that he finally allows those moments to have meaning, and those feelings to have a name. It's now that he falls in love with Scully, even though he can't even explain it to himself.

He hates that it is now that it happens, when she has come after him (again) despite not believing him (again) and there is (maybe for the first time) no way for her to save him. No solution, paranormal or scientific, is going to help him, even with all that they've both tried so hard for.

He's stuck for the rest of eternity, switched with another man who now has _his_ body, _his_ life… and the fact that he's closer to the truth than he's ever been doesn't even begin to make that knowledge sting less. Right now, all Mulder wants is to go back to that stupid ugly breezeblock building in Washington, tail between his legs, and never have to leave Scully's side again.

But as Mulder's come to learn hundreds, if not thousands, of times over the last few years, it's that what he wants to happen and what does happen are all too often at opposite ends of the scale.

It's a cold night and Mulder's beginning to feel the chill creeping into him, not helped by the knowledge that this, finally, is it.

(This is goodbye.)

Even as that unthinkable reality hits home, the other reality is beginning to dawn, threatening to break his composure more, if anything, that knowing that this is the end.

They have stumbled to a halt in conversation when it hits, and Mulder knows he should say something, anything, to ease the pain that's obvious on Scully's features, but he can't.

Any words are halted in their tracks by a sudden, overwhelming _warmth_ that radiates through his chest, threatening to take his breath away while making his body (not the body he is in, but whatever it is that is _him_ , deeper than flesh and blood) become unexpectedly light at the same time. It is an unknown sensation, so intense and all-encompassing that he is momentarily worried this is some side effect from the scientific impossibility involved in switching bodies.

He's about to ask Scully about it, automatically wanting her medical expertise, wanting to know if she's ever seen or felt this before.

Then he realises he doesn't have to ask; the answer is right in front of him, in the sparkling eyes that look so intensely into his.

She's feeling it right now.

Mulder is so close to telling her there and then- he has nothing to lose, if she feels the same. But he doesn't say anything, especially not those three words that will change everything, because he knows more than just her feelings towards him. She can't handle those words from him right now, not like this. Maybe she never will be able to.

It doesn't really matter. He can tell that she understands how he feels, too.

Knowing his love for her, and her love for him, doesn't really numb the pain of knowing they will never see each other again- if anything, it hurts more, as he wonders how many months he has wasted in denial. But something deep down tells him it'll be okay. It always is, it always will be. He doesn't know how, but they'll think of something.

They do.

Despite both believing so strongly in the bleak, unalterable future, they are proven wrong. In less than twenty-four hours, the unthinkable has occurred and everything is back to normal, back to before, as if nothing ever happened. And nobody involved will remember anything.

So the memories of those days will vanish and fade away into the back of his mind, never to be resurrected again, save for one thing that will, inexplicably, remain.

From now on, when he meets Scully's eyes, when she offers him a rare smile, when their hands brush against each other's', accidentally or otherwise, the flush of warmth will course through his body, through his chest, and reduce his thoughts to nothingness.

He never remembers when he fell in love with her.

(Or, rather, when he allowed himself to love her.)

But he knows it happened. And he knows she feels the same.


	3. III: Pragma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 of 5.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I lied last time. I'm still getting used to Ao3. This chapter's a bit different but I hope you like it.

** III: Pragma **

**_pragma (πρᾶγμα)_ : **A long standing love that lasts through tough times. It endures regardless of what happens, and is as much about giving love as it is receiving it.

Mulder is always reluctant to say this is the third time, because really it shouldn’t count. He’s always loved his sister.

But as much as he tries to resist it, he knows that if he’s honest with himself, this is the third time. After twenty seven endless, tormenting, guilt-ridden years, when he gets to hold Samantha again.

They stand in this silver sheen of starlight, surrounded by the forever young spirits of children who have escaped the cruelties of the world, the echoing emptiness that has been in his heart for as long as he can remember is overrun by emotion.

The aching void wasn’t just for Samantha, but for his parents, who he had lost at the same time, and never had a chance to apologise to. The night that Samantha was taken, they had left him too, succumbing to their own inner doubts and fears. What he has called love for almost three decades wasn’t the calming wave of release that washes over him now, but a dark and damaging combination of grief, anger, hatred and loneliness. Losing Sam should’ve brought them closer together, and instead it drove them apart.

They had both tried to tell him, before they left forever. Tried to tell him they were sorry, tried to show him their love, tried to tell him the truth so he would stop looking for answers that didn’t exist. They’d tried so hard, and, until now, had failed all the same.

Now, though, he understands. As Mulder holds his little sister, it isn’t just her relief he can feel, but theirs as well. Thirty years of belonging he never got a chance to experience fills his chest, obliterating that hole as if it never existed.

In contrast to what he’d expected, the loss of the emptiness doesn’t make him feel heavier- quite the opposite. The weight of the darkness he’s been carrying for so long is lifted by this relief, by the new love that surges through him, and for now at least all of the big questions are extinguished with it.

Knowing suddenly that he is alone does not reduce him to tears. It does not take his breath away, or make his knees go weak. His family, the three people in the world he needs the most, are gone forever.

He feels more serene now than he ever has done before, knowing that they are always there with him in a way they never could be when they were alive. He realises that he no longer has to worry. Samantha may be gone, he may never be able to talk to her or really know the truth, but that’s okay.

She’s safe, she’s not hurt, she’s not in a cell somewhere screaming his name.

(She’s happy.)

So he pulls Samantha closer, feeling her cling back in a show of unrestricted emotion rather than desperation, and feels himself smile as he relaxes into her embrace.

It no longer hurts.

The guilt is gone.

The spirit-draining turmoil is gone.

The anger, the hate, the loneliness, are gone.

Only the love remains, buoying his heart as nothing ever has.

So he’s no longer in pain.

(He’s fine.)

(He’s free.)


	4. IV: Storge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 4 of 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still keep forgetting to update, but thanks to everyone who's sticking around. I'm glad people enjoyed the last chapter :)

** IV: Storge **

**_storge (στοργή)_** : Unconditional love that accepts flaw and faults and ultimately drives you to forgive. It’s the committed, sacrificial love parents naturally feel for their children.

 

There shouldn’t be a fourth time.

That’s all Mulder can think, as he looks into exquisitely beautiful green eyes and finds himself in love all over again: that it shouldn’t be happening.

He doesn’t deserve it.

And it’s impossible.

(Then again, hasn’t been everything that has happened over the last few months?)

(Or, now he thinks about it, the last few _years_?)

Mainly, though, he just can’t believe it’s happening now. He’s never even considered such an event, not even as a vague possibility, though why he’s not entirely sure. Maybe it’s because he’s been so set on finding something _more_ in the world, something that will confirm that his existence has a meaning, he’s forgotten that he doesn’t need to discover it hiding somewhere. He can create it himself.

It’s not meant to happen. Not to him. The thought of family is something so completely alien (ha) to him that it’s difficult to consider, even in the broadest terms. Family doesn’t happen to people like him. People like Scully. They can’t have normal lives, where the only concern is what to buy for dinner or how long you can wait before doing the laundry. It can’t work. Even eight years ago, before all of this really started properly, before he’d been utterly absorbed into this search for this _greater thing_ , it wouldn’t have worked.

Mulder doesn’t do family.

He’s never really been a son.

He’ll never be a husband.

(He can’t imagine being a father.)

And yet here he is.

Mulder has never believed in God, or any omnipresent force controlling everything- he’s mocked Scully enough times to probably undermine her own faith- but if you asked him where this child was from he wouldn’t know how else to reply. Maybe there is no way to reply.

Maybe it doesn’t matter.

Never mind that no one has any answers. Never mind that it should be impossible for Scully to conceive. Never mind that this will change everything, unimaginably, irreversibly. They both know that, and knew it even when she’d asked him to be her donor. They’d known it wouldn’t work- that even if the procedure was successful, it wouldn’t work. Even so… Mulder remembers holding her that night, as they took turns crying at nothing more than the twisted humour of the universe, intent on keeping even a glimmer of light from the void of turmoil and danger that shadows their lives at every step. He knew he deserved it (or at least he could reason it that way), but he hated what it did to Scully.

He’d realised it in Oregon. That this was _his_ crusade, _his_ mission, and he’d dragged Scully into it like the selfish son-of-a-bitch he is, not even considering what it must have done to her. She lost her sister, too. And her daughter. Any future children. Hell, any _future_. And then she’d lost him.

He is always amazed when she smiles. That she _can_ smile.

(It just makes him love her more.)

But now, he’s not surprised to see her shining eyes meet his, or watch her face light up with joy. He can feel his own smile, the first real one he can remember in far too long, threatening to split his face in two.

They don’t need answers right now.

He can hear his words from a year ago, now, echoing through his mind as he gazes into a pair of eyes that are a perfect mirror image of Scully’s. _Never give up on a miracle_. Because that’s what this is. What he is. A miracle.

A fragile heartbeat pulses against his hand as he adjusts his arms to cradle the child closer to his chest. The quiet noises from the baby stop, as it looks at Mulder, finally, for the first time. That gaze, so innocent but full of emotion at the same time, makes something change. And he falls in love again.

Even before the child’s name leaves Scully’s lips, Mulder knows he will do anything, will sacrifice anything, will even give up his life, to keep this tiny life safe.

Not because he’s a miracle, or because so many people want him dead, or because his birth should’ve been impossible. Not because he’s being heralded as the saviour of mankind. Those reasons don’t influence his emotion one iota.

He will guard this child with his life because it’s not _a_ child. ‘It’ is not an it.

He is William.

He is their child.

He is Mulder’s son… and so Mulder loves him.


	5. V: Agape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 5 of 5.

** V: Agape **

**_agape (ἀγάπη)_ : **The love of altruism, of giving without asking anything in return. It is considered to be the purest form of love, resulting in a wiliness to do anything for one’s partner and to protect them with one’s life.

 

The last time Fox Mulder falls in love…

Maybe _falls_ isn’t the right word. After all, he’s already fallen in love with Scully. And even that was theoretically impossible, because if there’s one thing she will never allow him to do, it’s fall. With her by his side, he can’t fail. He can’t slip away into nothing or be absorbed by the grim truth of the universe until he’s wrapped in a thick, heavy shroud of it that never fades away.

Is it possible to transcend into love? To be so utterly devoted to another human being that just being near them, hearing their voice, is enough to make you feel like you’re on another plane of existence, one you didn’t even know was possible until you were up there?

He knows there must be, because she’s shown it to him so many times it’s hard to keep track. So why does it take now, this moment, for him to fully recognise it?

Maybe it’s because they’re not running any more.

Maybe it’s because he feels safe.

Or because he has the opportunity to consider what it’s all meant.

Maybe it’s because it is, simply, over.

(Or maybe-)

(Just maybe-)

(Maybe it’s because she’s by his side, she’s with him, curled next to him so every part of their bodies are touching, the only way they can fit on a bed made for one, and her breath against his cheek and her heartbeat against his chest are making him realise…)

She’s been there through all of it.

It makes him dizzy, thinking about it, and as memories come rushing in from every lost vault of his mind it’s all he can do not to grab hold of them all and try to sort them out in some kind of logical order. Just a fleeting glimpse at these half-forgotten moments brings them back in such brilliant, crystalline quality it’s like he’s _there_ , for the briefest of moments.

He’s there in a dingy basement as a woman, five foot nothing with hair the colour of copper, enters and introduces herself as his new partner-

He’s there a year later when the same woman, one he already knows he will protect with his life evn if not exactly sure _why_ , goes missing and returns to lie unresponsive in hospital, everyone fearing the worst-

And again, when this time she’s going to die, she _will_ , nothing can stop that, and it’s all his fault and all he wants to do is tell her that-

He’s holding her close to him as they stumble through collapsing ice corridors, running away from god knows what, intent on escaping (because there is no way he’s going to die without actually kissing her)-

He is standing in moonlight and feeling his heart squeeze with love and pain at the thought of never seeing her again-

He is in her arms as he sobs into her shoulder, as she remains the only real one, the only one left in a world that’s falling apart-

He is holding her child- their child- to his chest and wondering whether it’s possible that the world doesn’t _always_ conspire against them-

He’s meeting her eyes, full of terror, as they sit before a jury who will never let him be free, and both of them know it-

He is by her side as they drive for mile upon mile, not thinking about the past or escaping or whatever lies ahead, only thanking whoever it is up there that they’re still here, together-

And finally, he’s here.

In one motel out of the hundreds there have been over the years, no less average, no less indistinguishable than the rest. And he feels… safe.

And why exactly he feels safe, when he is in the midst of a global conspiracy, barely a decade away from an apocalypse, chased by the FBI who intend on punishing him for a murder that they know is impossible, is a question that takes him a while to answer.

(He’s not particularly surprised when he works it out.)

(He’s always suspected it.)

Love.

Love so strong and all-encompassing that it can protect him from anything, any of that pain and horror that awaits, like it’s nothing. Love for one person who has changed and completed his life so utterly he can’t believe he’s known her only nine years.

How can love like this develop in nine years?

He never would’ve though love like this could exist, even in a lifetime, not before this.

He never believed in love, like he never believed in God.

And he’s not even entirely sure he believes in it now.

But he wants to.

He wants to believe.

 

 

The last time Fox Mulder falls in love, he thinks he can believe enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed! I hope you liked this fic, it's one of my favourites that I've written. If anyone has prompts or ideas feel free to send them to me on here or my Tumblr, bitshortforastormtrooper. xx


End file.
